


Sometimes You've Got To Give a Little To Get A Little

by tender_is_the_ghost



Category: Merle Dixon - Fandom, Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fighting, Non-Graphic Violence, One Night Stands, POV Second Person, Rough Sex, Sex, Spit As Lube, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_is_the_ghost/pseuds/tender_is_the_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merle Dixon one-shot, set in Woodbury.</p><p>Nina wants into the arena, no matter what it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You've Got To Give a Little To Get A Little

 

“Why the fuck not?” you ask, trying to keep an even tone and not let your frustration show in your voice.

“Because, L’il Bit, the arena ain’t no place for girls.”

Your skin bristles at his nickname for you and you bite back what you really want to say on the off chance you can still reason with him.

“Bullshit! You know I can take any one of those guys and not even break a sweat. You’re just protecting their fragile male egos.”

“Darlin’, you may be hot shit with a gun in your hand and I’ll even admit that you’ve held your own in the past, but goin’ hand to hand with these guys – you’re outta your league. Now if you’ve finished bustin’ my balls, I’d like to go eat.”

Merle turns away from you and starts off through the abandoned factory, away from the walker pens you just finished re-filling. You’re hungry too and in desperate need of a shower but his macho, sexist attitude has really got under your skin, today more than usual.

You rush to catch up with him and, without really thinking, you shove him hard in the back. He stumbles forward but regains his footing in an instant, whipping around to face you, blade poised and ready to do some serious damage. He lowers his arm when he realizes it’s just you.

“The fuck you doin’?”

You answer him with a blow to the stomach, dancing back out of reach as he doubles over, whooshing out breath. He quickly recovers, straightening back up and looking at you, eyes glittering dangerously.

“Oh, you don’t want to mess with me, L’il Bit. I ain’t got no problems putting a woman in her place when she needs it.”

“Think you’re man enough? Well come on then.”

You dart towards him, aiming a kick at his knee which connects with a solid crack. He grunts and snakes out his arm, faster than you could have imagined, catching your hair in his fist and yanking you to him. He spins you in his grip, wrapping his forearm around your throat, choking off your air. You struggle against him for a minute, making him chuckle deep in his chest, before letting yourself go limp against him.

“Are we done?” he asks, voice dripping with scorn.

You nod as best you can and his grip on your throat starts to loosen.  Reaching up with both hands, you grab his forearm and sink your teeth in, hard enough to taste blood on your tongue. He yells and tries to shove you from him but you cling on, driving your elbow back into his solar plexus and being rewarded with another grunt of pain. He may have the superior size and bulk over you but you’re definitely faster on your feet, you think, as you slip out of his grip avoiding the swinging blade on his other arm.

“Bitch!” he hurls the curse at you, holding up his arm to examine the dripping wound.

You just grin in response, spitting his blood from your mouth and wiping the back of your hand across your lips.

Keeping his blade up and out, he advances on you rapidly and you try to duck past him but he catches you by the scruff of the neck, tossing you unceremoniously to the floor and following up with a kick to your ass once you’re down. You sprawl on the floor, dirt filling your mouth and nose, as you feel him grab your ankle and start hauling you backwards across the floor. The shorts you’re wearing offer your legs no protection and you feel the concrete and gravel biting into your skin as he pulls you along.

“Please Merle, stop! I’m sorry, okay? I give, I give!”

He stops dragging you, turning back to look at your face. You give him your best defeated look and he snorts, dropping your leg to the ground.

“I thought as much. Ain’t so tough after all, are you girly?”

He steps closer, leering down at you and, lightning fast, you scissor your legs around his knees, felling him like a tree. He goes down hard, cracking against the concrete floor with the wind knocked out of him. You don’t give him a second to recover before you throw yourself on top of him, straddling his hips and pinning his legs with your ankles, your hands slamming his arms against the floor above his head and pinning them there.

Your face is mere inches from his and you can feel his body, firm under yours as he struggles to catch his breath against the weight you’re applying to his diaphragm, his eyes burning into yours. You stare each other down for a minute and he wriggles a couple of times but you’ve got him pretty effectively pinned, at least for the time being. You know your advantage won’t hold long though and you’re just wondering how you’re going to follow through when he starts to laugh. The sound reverberates through your skin where you’re pressed against him and you sit back, confused, releasing his arms.

“You’ve got spunk, L’il Bit, that’s for sure. What’d ya say we make this a little more interestin’?”

 He shifts beneath you slightly and you roll your hips to compensate, realizing as you do that at some point in your interaction he’s gotten hard and his erection is now pushing against your inner thigh. Your mind reels and you push up off of him, using his chest as leverage, and then walk a few steps away.

Your head is telling you that this is a really bad idea but your body has already started responding to the thought. You can’t deny there’s been sparks between you but the man is a redneck, misogynistic douchebag and you know you’re going to regret it if you fuck him.

You don’t hear him get up and gasp as he grabs your arm forcing you around, backing you up against the nearest piece of heavy machinery. He covers your body with his, the smell of leather, sweat and a faint odor of whiskey invading your nostrils.

“We weren’t done.” He growls, as his hand grabs roughly at your hip, pulling you into him while he bites at your neck.

Your head is still screaming at you that this is a bad, bad idea but your body is already betraying you as your arms reach around to grab his ass and you grind your crotch against him. He chuckles against your neck again between nips from his teeth and his hand leaves your hip to work its way over your bare midriff and under the knotted shirt you’re wearing to find your breast. He rips aside your bra and squeezes your breast hard, pulling sharply on your nipple, making you yelp.

He pulls off you, yanking one handed at the knot holding your shirt closed until he manages to untangle it. A sly look crosses his face as he brings his blade in across your vision, pressing the tip of it lightly against your throat and then tracing it down across your chest until it sits under the edge of your shirt. You’re not sure if his intention is to scare you a little but it’s having the opposite effect as you can feel a warm, sticky wetness building between your thighs with every touch.

With a single, deft move he pushes the blade up and out, slicing the material of your shirt like butter. He pushes aside the tattered cloth with the tip of his knife and starts to slide it under your bra but you stop him, carefully pushing away his arm and reaching around to undo your bra and take it off along with your shirt. He tilts his head to one side and whistles appreciatively at your exposed breasts before taking one in hand again and this time sinking his mouth to cover your nipple. The stubble on his face is rough against your soft skin as he rolls his tongue wetly over your hardened nipple, his fingers digging into your breast to hold it to his mouth.

You stretch your arms over your head and arch into his touch, your back resting against the coolness of the machine and close your eyes. He alternates from one breast to the other, giving them both a workout before straightening up and looking you in the eyes, licking his lips. You take in a sharp breath as you feel the tip of his knife suddenly touch your inner thigh, the cool metal sliding gently up to rest against the heat of your sex. He cocks his head and raises an eyebrow at you which has you reaching for the button on your shorts, undoing them and letting them drop to your ankles in one swift move. You’re not wearing panties so now you stand naked before him, the look of pure lust on his face, making you shiver a little.

His hand reaches for his own belt but you bat it away, undoing it yourself and slowly sliding down the zipper on his jeans while he moans in anticipation. You push his jeans back down over his hips far enough to release his thick cock, the head leaking pre-cum across your arm as you brush against it. You look up at him, tip of your tongue between your teeth, as you take him in hand, feeling the weight of him hot against your palm as you start stroking his length.

His knife hand slams into the metal behind you as he leans his body over yours and you wonder how long it’s been since someone other than himself touched him like this. You increase your motion, sliding your thumb up to rub across his slit on every upstroke and soon he’s shuddering at your touch. Roughly he jerks away from you, breathing ragged and a frown creasing his forehead.

“I can do that for myself. If you ain’t gonna fuck me, then I’m wasting my time,” he yells.

“Well, are you going to stand there and bitch about it all day or are you going to stop being a pussy and do something about it?” you yell right back.

For a second you actually think he’s going to hit you again as his hand twitches at his side but, instead, he grabs your hair, savagely twisting your head as he bites at your neck again like some kind of animal. You buck against him, making fists in his shirt front, urging him to bite you harder. His cock is hard against your belly, slapping between you and you start to ache for the feel of it inside you.

“Merle!”

You shove against his chest, pushing him back a little. He looks down at you, rolling his lower lip between his teeth, then in one swift move he spits on his fingers and shoves his hand between your thighs. You curse him as his rough hand crushes your clit, his thick fingers not even slowing as he plunges them into you, stretching you open.  You writhe on his hand, searching for an angle to give you maximum friction as he fingers you roughly.

All too quickly he withdraws his touch and you whine a little in your throat as he wipes his hand across his jeans and kicks your ankles apart with his boot. You’ve barely shifted position before his cock is at your entrance and he thrusts hard into you. As his thickness fills you, you throw your arms around his neck and his hand grasps at your thigh, sliding down to hook behind your knee and bring your leg up to hang over his arm.

You’re open wide to him now and he shifts his feet for a better angle, sliding almost out of you before ramming back in. His knife hand clanks against the metal behind your head again as he leverages himself with that arm, pounding into you with such ferocity it’s all you can do to lock your fingers behind his neck and hold on. His head dips to your shoulder and rests there as he fucks you so hard you know you’re going to be sore for the rest of the week. But it feels so good, an affirmation of life, a sign that things can be normal again in this fucked up world.

You cling tighter, squeezing your walls around him, whining loudly at the increased sensation.

“Fuck!” he moans against your neck, “you like that dontcha, you dirty bitch?! I fuckin’ knew it, minute I set eyes on ya. I knew you were a filthy whore.”

His word seem to burn into your skin and you clutch at his back, digging your fingers into the soft leather of his vest, as you come hard, shuddering against him, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you yell his name. You feel him stiffen beneath your touch.

“Fuck, Sugar, fuck, fuck, fuuuucckk...”

The words tumble from his lips as he thrusts hard into you a final time and you feel his come mixing with your own juices. He ruts against you a few more times, grunting as he rides out his climax and then he slips messily from you, releasing your leg and lifting his head from your shoulder. You balance against him for a moment, waiting for the blood to start circulating to your leg again and he smirks down at you.

When you feel you can move without falling on your ass, you push him aside, grabbing your clothing from the floor.

“You owe me a new shirt”, you say, looking at the tattered garment in your hands.

“Bill me!” he replies, pulling his pants back up and tucking himself in.

You toss it at his head and he catches it, holding it to his nose and inhaling deeply. You shake your head in disgust and turn to leave, not caring that you’re still naked.

“Aww, L’il Bit, don’t go away mad!” he laughs after you.

“I have a name you know,” you toss back over your shoulder.

“Hey, Nina, come on sugar, show Merle some love.”

“Put me on the roster and I’ll think about it. Oh, and Merle…”

You turn back to look at him, where he’s leaning arrogantly on the machine he just fucked you against.

“Yes Darlin’?”

“Don’t fuck with me or next time it won’t be your arm I’ll be biting.”

You turn once more towards the door and leave the building, his laughter echoing in your ears.

 


End file.
